


Society's Dregs

by I_llbedammned



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_llbedammned/pseuds/I_llbedammned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rorschach reminisces about the benefits of using his own fists over using a gun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Society's Dregs

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Отбросы общества](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517719) by [Walter_Kovacs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walter_Kovacs/pseuds/Walter_Kovacs)



Rorschach barely even registered the man as a threat until he was staring down the barrel of a gun at point blank range. "Gimme your money, you masked freak!" came the demand from his pimply, gaunt face. The masked hero lifted his gloved fist with purpose.

Rorschach never could understand what it was about modern society that made them gravitate towards guns. Whatever happened to the good old days when men solved all their problems with their fists, pitting their strength against another man's strength and letting whoever was stronger come out on top? But no, everybody wanted something easy in today's world. They wanted the power immediately and so they bought phallic extension and explosives to try and behave like they had all the power.

They didn't want to spend the hours training to get what they wanted. He ran his gloved hand absent-mindedly along the old scars on his knuckles, remembering the first time that he ever got into a fight. It wasn't much of a fight, just some other kid at school that started something that they couldn't finish. The teachers had pulled Rorschach off the other kid half-way horrified as blood gushed from the other kid's mouth and from his own knuckles, bruises welling up underneath both of their skins. Looking back on it he wanted to spit on the kid, nothing but a mindless ruffian who tried to use force to get what he wanted. People like him were disgusting and a good reason why society was in the dismal state that it was in.

Time went by, nothing changed in society. He learned from his mistakes, learned to duck when he saw the wind-up. He learned how to ignore pain when it came his way as he dodged the kids at school and his mother's and her scumbag boys' own blows. He learned the value of a good day's work when the work was paid with his own sweat and blood. As around him society decayed and stewed in its own filth he built himself up from nothing, watching as muscle stacked its way on top of fragile bones. The one thing he could be most proud of in this life was the fact that he had made himself up from the basest of materials. How many of these useless pieces of trash could say the same?

Every memory made his hits come harder. Funny thing about a gun is that they were absolutely useless in close range. He grabbed his would be robber's hand bent it hard 'til everything let out a sickening crunch. The man cried out, but that did not stop the blows. They rained down like hail, even as everybody on the street gave them a wide berth and stared like they had never seen a real fight before. With bone shattering force Rorschach lashed out against the evils of the world, purging it one blood spatter and bruise at a time from the man's face, hands, neck, and arms. He knew the man would not survive and good riddance to bad rubbish. These were lessons one could not learn from a gun, these were hard lessons that a man had to earn all on his own with his own flesh as payment.


End file.
